king what he judged to be about twenty feet through the
passage, which was shored up and roofed with timbers much after the
manner of a mine tunnel, he approached a spot where the passage widened,
and he found he was in a sort of room.

At one side were a number of casks, but these were empty, as Garry found
when he stirred one of them with his feet. At the other side of the room
was a crude table, built of pine boards. On this table reposed a stack
of fine fur, roped into a bundle. Garry examined it and found the skins
to be those of fine seals, caught in Canadian waters, and destined to be
sent to New York and sold to some woman who would have no idea that the
law of the land had been broken by the making of the coat or neckpiece
that she would be wearing.

They had been there for some time, Garry judged, for the dust was thick
enough to denote that no one had been there for some days.

He pushed his way on through the passage, and came at last to the end.
There was a box to stand on so that one might get up high enough to get
a good purchase on the trap.

Now came a crucial moment. There was no telling whether or not the
cellar was occupied. All that Garry could do was to push upward and
trust to chance. Very carefully and slowly he pushed upward.

It required some exertion, but finally gave way. Pushing it three or
four inches, Garry paused, and both looked and listened. There was not a
sound, and no beam of light came to disclose the presence of anyone in
the cellar.

Giving the trap a last upward fling, Garry was soon in the cellar.
Pressing the snap of his light so that it would continue to shine, he
covered the trap with the dirt, smoothing it with his hands so that it
would show no signs of having been recently displaced.

The first step had been successfully negotiated. Now remained the
difficult task of getting upstairs and in a place where he could hear
what was being plotted by Green, LeBlanc and their friends.

Walking as near the edge of the steps as he could, for it is at this
point that they are less apt to creak, he made his way up the cellar
stairs.

Every step was now one of potential danger, for the throwing open of the
kitchen door would disclose his presence, and he would be trapped, for
there was no exit from the cellar except through the passageway, and he
knew that if he were discovered, some of the men would run to the barn
and guard that exit. His rifle had been left with the boys,